And Billy, with a little wistful pat on Mrs.
Greggory's clasped hands, went.
Once down the long four flights of stairs and out on the sidewalk, William Henshaw drew a long breath.
"Well, by Jove! Billy, the next time I take you curio hunting, it won't be to this place," he fumed.
"Wasn't it awful!" choked Billy.
"Awful! The girl was the most stubborn, unreasonable, vixenish little puss I ever saw.

I didn't want her old Lowestoft if she didn't want to sell it! But to practically invite me there, and then treat me like that!" scolded the collector, his face growing red with anger.

"Still, I was sorry for the poor little old lady.

I wish, somehow, she could have that hundred dollars!" It was the man who said this, not the collector.
"So do I," rejoined Billy, dolefully.

"But that girl was so--so queer!" she sighed, with a frown.